From Durmstrang with Care
by Ryllis
Summary: AU. What if Draco had gone to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts? What happens when he is suddenly transferred to Hogwarts? slash *New chapter 4 and added chapter 5*
1. Prologue and Chapter One

From Durmstrang with Care by Ryllis  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Author's Note: This is my first fic ever so sorry if it really sucks. But if it does, feel free to tell me! This will hopefully be Harry/Draco.  
  
Summary: Ever wonder why in the world would Draco Malfoy go to Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang? This is what I think what would have happened. Sorry if anybody's disappointed that I made him transfer to Hogwarts, but I love my Harry and Draco!  
  
Rating: PG-13? I don't know, I'm just guessing. But since I'm fifteen and I'm writing this, it can't be that explicit...right?  
  
  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
The word spread around school like wildfire. There was a new student transferring to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And it was the son of one Lucius Malfoy, a known Death Eater on the run from the Ministry. A Malfoy. What was Professor Dumbledore thinking? Sure, most of the Slytherins were headed towards a future of Killing and Voldemort, but allowing a Malfoy to attend Hogwarts! The Malfoys had a long history of what they would call Pure-blood superiority, but what the rest of the wizarding world called hatred against all things non Pure-blood.  
  
Lucius Malfoy's face had been plastered all over the Wizard newspapers, with headlines like Malfoy on Run from Ministry or Malfoy Proved to Be in Cohorts with You-Know-Who. Eventually, all the students at school couldn't think of You-Know-Who without thinking of his right-hand man, Lucius Malfoy. And now his son was going to attend their school.  
  
And there were three students in particular who were dreaing the new boy's arrival. At the moment, the three seventh-years were currently huddled in a secluded corner of the Gryffindor Common Room.  
  
They sat around a sitting table, their books, various parchments, and quills scattered around them, forgotten.  
  
"I mean, honestly, what is Dumbledore thinking? Either he's finally gone completely batty or You-Know-Who has finally gotten to him. Either way, it's not safe here!" the red-head's voice grew steadily louder.  
  
"Shh!" the lone girl admonished, "Dumbledore is the greatest wizard alive! Even You-Know-Who is afraid of him. You know Hogwarts is the safest place to be right now. He wouldn't just let a Malfoy attend without good reason."  
  
"But Dumbledore let Barty Crouch in here! What if Lucius Malfoy is tricking Dumbledore? He's a Death Eater! They're all a bunch of sly-"  
  
"Oh, don't be daft! There's no way tha-"  
  
"Daft! You're alwa-"  
  
"Ron! Hermione!" the black-haired boy finally spoke up. "Please stop arguing. There's no use fighting over this. Besides, you know after that whole mess during our fourth year that Dumbledore has been more careful than ever."  
  
After Hermione's emphatic nod and Ron's more reluctant one, he continued. "Now let's not waste anymore time talking about the Malfoys. We'll know more when he gets here tomorrow. I think we should just go to bed and sleep on it."  
  
"Alright," Hermione and Ron both agreed.  
  
They all picked up their books and carefully balanced their scrolls and quills on top.  
  
The stairs to the Gryffindor boy's tower was the closest. Ron bade them both goodnight, giving Hermione a quick peck on the lips before disappearing up the stairwell.  
  
The remaining two walked to Hermione's room next. As Headgirl, she had her own room, secluded from the rest of the Gryffindors.  
  
"You know, you don't have to walk me all the way to my room," she smiled teasingly, used to the other's concern over her safety.  
  
"I know," the boy just smiled before turning back towards his own room as Hermione spoke the password to her room.  
  
"Goodnight, Harry!" Hermione called after him, already halfway through the hole.  
  
"Night, Mione," he called back, turning around briefly to watch her climb through the hole and close the portrait shut.  
  
Despite Harry's veneer of calm, he was anything but. Out of his three friends, he was the only one to actually ever meet Lucius Malfoy. Just thinking about their encounter made Harry sick to his stomach.  
  
It had been the day Cedric had died. They had both grabbed the snitch during the final Quidditch tournament and found themselves transported to a cemetary where Voldemort, Wormtail, and Lucius Malfoy awaited him. He remembered Lucius Malfoy clearly, the pale skin, long blond-white hair, and cold, calculating eyes. They had immediately killed Cedric; echoes of "Kill the spare" and "Avada Kedavra" haunted him still. They had then used his blood to resurrect Voldemort.  
  
Harry supressed a shudder as he reached his own room. As the Gryffindor prefect, he got his own room as well, but closer than Hermione's to the other Gryffindors. His, however, unlike Hermione's, just had a normal door.  
  
Harry stumbled over to his bed, weary and overanxious of the new arrival. He pulled his black robes off and slipped into his pajamas.  
  
He lay in bed, unable to fall asleep for another hour, memories and fears crowding his thoughts.  
  
  
  
CHAPTER 1  
  
Narcissa Malfoy was not a happy witch.  
  
Ever since her husband had disappeared with the Dark Lord last winter, her life had changed drastically. The Ministry had arrived at Malfoy Manor a week after Lucius had fled, demanding to search the entire Malfoy Manor.  
  
Naturally, Narcissa agreed. And naturally, they had found certain items that Lucius had not bothered to sell to Mr. Borgin.  
  
After spending a few weeks in their custody, she was released. But she had missed spending the winter holidays with Draco. She was still able to send him his gifts, however, and he did send her a gift as well. Instead, her son had had to spend his holidays at school. She had been outraged and had voiced her opinion loudly. Her son had just 'lost' his father and his mother was being detained by the Ministry. He needed his mother. Yet she had been unable to do anything but wait the process out.  
  
The following summer, she and Draco had grown closer than ever. Before Lucius' disappearance, they had both kept to polite pleasantries out of Lucius' scorn for emotions. But now.things were different.  
  
Despite the implications of her name, Narcissa Malfoy loved her son above all else. And that was why she was not a happy witch.  
  
After discovering what had been going on with her son at school and at home with Lucius, Narcissa had had a tantrum. She had broken into Lucius' previously untouched bedroom, save for the Ministry, and promptly broken and ripped everything in sight.  
  
After calming herself down, she had immediately pulled Draco from school and gotten his godfather to pull some strings to allow Draco to attend Hogwarts instead.  
  
Her poor, little Dragon. She gazed across the carriage to the face of her son. When Draco slept he looked even more vulnerable than the night she had accidentally entered his room after he had come out of his bath.  
  
His white-blond hair, whiter than his father's, fell out of its gell, sweeping across his face. His eyelids fluttered and pinched while his eyebrows alternately furrowed then relaxed. And every once in a while his mouth would twitch and his jaw would clench. He looked so lost.  
  
She carefully pulled Draco's fur cape up to his neck so as not to distrub him; he got cold easily. Yet, despite her cautious movements, the boy still woke up with a start. When he saw the distrubance was his mother, he smiled faintly, sadly, and turned his head towards the window.  
  
It was a cloudless night and Draco could see the thousands of stars that littered the night sky. The light from the carriage swung back and forth, casting eeries shadows outside the window.  
  
"Are we almost there?"  
  
"Yes, almost. Actually, look over there," she placed a finger on the window towards a point in the vast darkness. "You can see the Astronomy Tower."  
  
Draco peered into the night. Yes, he could see a grey, stone tower in the distance.  
  
"Will you owl me?" Draco's voice was quiet.  
  
"Of course, Draco! Every week on Sunday, okay?"  
  
"Yeah," Draco agreed with a quick quirk of a smile.  
  
They lapsed into silence as they approached Hogwarts. The nearer they got, the more nervous Draco become. The only sign of his anxiety, however, the slight twisting of his hands. But Narcissa was grateful for the visible sign of emotion. Her son was very good at hiding his emotions from people he didn't trust or felt threatened by. That he could show his nervousness, even in something so small, brought forth a new spurt of motherly love.  
  
As they entered the gates, Narcissa placed her hands over Draco's, stilling them as well as calming and comforting her son all at once.  
  
"I'm glad we got to spend the holidays together this year, Draco," she gave he son a warm smile and squeezed his hands.  
  
He returned both gestures. "Me too, mum."  
  
The carriage stopped and the door opened. Immediately, Draco's face shut down; it become a blank slate. Although Draco did this every single time he was around everybody but her, it still sent shivers down Narcissa's spine whenever he did it.  
  
A black-haired man appeared, helping them both out of the carriage. He gestured for the house-elves to pick up Draco's belongings.  
  
"Severus, how are you?" Narcissa greeted the man with real warmth as they walked to the entrance hall, Draco walking slightly behind them.  
  
"Eh.good, Sissy," the man looked uncomfortable. "Is this Draco, then?"  
  
"Oh, yes!" Narcissa smiled at Draco over her shoulder, gesturing for him to stand beside her.  
  
"Severus, this is Draco. Draco, this is Severus Snape, your godfather. He's also the Potions professor here, the best for the job," Narcissa introduced the two. "You know, he's the youngest Potions Master alive."  
  
Draco smiled politely, not all fazed to meet the imposing man whom he had never heard or seen of, and shook the older man's hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, professor. Potions was my favorite class back at Durmstrang."  
  
Snape echoed the sentiments. Oh yes, Draco was good. The professor knew what had happened at Draco's former school; Narcissa had told him all about it. But the boy had barely hesitated before stating the school's name. If Snape hadn't been hyper-observant about everything about this boy, he would never had noticed it.  
  
They climbed up the great stone steps and entered the entrance hall. It was bright and big, completely different from Durmstrang's entrance hall.  
  
"I'm afraid this is where I must leave you, Draco," Narcissa's voice was filled with regret.  
  
"I know, mother."  
  
Draco had reverted back to mother, Narcissa noted. But, of course, they were in public, in front of a stranger no less, she added to herself.  
  
However, to his credit, Snape had retreated, leaving them some privacy to say goodbye in private. Instead, he spoke quietly to the house-elves, instructing them on what to do with Draco's belongings. He and Dumbledore had decided not to sort Draco into a house. Instead, he would just room with the other Slytherins, as he was under Snape's supervision.  
  
When Draco noticed that Snape's back was to him, he gave his mother a quick hug and peck on the cheek.  
  
"I love you, mum."  
  
Narcissa smiled and made to ruffle his hair. At Draco's mock warning glare, she just laughed and did it anyway.  
  
"I love you too, my dragon," she kissed Draco on the cheek and hugged him tightly before sweeping back into the night.  
  
Draco stood in the middle of the hall, watching her exit, unknowing of Snape's watchful gaze.  
  
The professor cleared his throat uneasily.  
  
Draco's entire body jerked into attention. He swiftly turned on his heel to face the man, self-consciously patting down his hair.  
  
"Well, would you like to see your room first or would you like to eat?" Snape asked.  
  
"I'd like to eat first, thank you," Draco answered with as much dignity as was possible while still trying to tame his hair. Eventually, he got it under control, so that each hair was in its precise place.  
  
The boy's concern about his hair made Snape uncomfortable with his own state of hair, but he shrugged off his uneasiness. It was silly to let a boy more than 15 years his junior to make him feel inadequate.  
  
He nodded in accordance to the boy's wishes and led him to the Great Hall. He briefly explained Draco's arrangements.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore and I have decided not to sort you into a house this year. Instead, you will stay in the dungeons with me and my house, the Slytherins. You will attend classes with the other Slytherins, but you can pick which classes you would like to take. Alright?" Snape realized he was being rather forceful and tried to even it out with a feeble question at the end.  
  
"That sounds reasonable. With whom should I talk to about which classes to take?"  
  
"Well, normally you would talk to the head of you house-me, but Professor Dumbledore wishes to talk to you after dinner, so you can talk to him about classes then."  
  
Draco was about to reply, when they reached the Great Hall. Snape pushed open the giant doors. 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Hmm, still don't own them.  
  
Author's Note: Thank you soooooo much to all you guys who reviewed! I was so excitied to hear from you all! I'm glad you all like my story and that you think my characterizations of all the people were good (I was worried about that because I usually tend to write kind of OOC). I hope you all read the reformatted one (I was having, erm, difficulties). Two things I wanted to clear up, though:  
  
To koashura: Yes, I'm sorry, you're right. Draco would have graduated. I had made them all sixth-years, but then I wasn't sure if Hermione and Harry could be Head Girl and a prefect. Sorry if I confused anybody!  
  
To Isadora Angel: I'm sorry if I confused you. I changed the cup to the snitch so that the Hogwarts gang would have never met any of the folks from Durmstrang. I changed the whole Triwizard Tournament to a very, very big snitch tournament with the final match between the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Hope that clears things up.  
  
Sorry about the very long note; onto the story!  
  
  
  
CHAPTER 2  
  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron went about their day as usual. It was the last of the Yule holidays and all the students who had gone home were coming back.  
  
Hermione got the other two to go to the library for some extra studying. After about an hour and a half, the boys finally snuck off and went flying. When they returned back to the common room, they found Hermione curled up with a book, reading. Harry and Ron opted not to bother and, instead, played a game of chess. While Harry was slowly improving, he wasn't losing as fast as he used to, he was still losing every single time. They only played one game before realizing how hungry they were.  
  
After coaxing Hermione away from her book, the three Gryffindors all went down to the Great Hall for lunch. After lunch, the three friends went back up to the common room. They were playing their third game of Exploding Snap when the first of their friends started to arrive. Seamus and Dean had gone to Ireland together with Seamus' family; Ginny had gone to America with a friend; the Creevy brothers had gone to France. Immediately the two brothers brought out their pictures of the trip.  
  
By the time they had gone through all six rolls of film, all of the Gryffindor house was crowded into the common. It was then that Harry decided to tell them the news.  
  
"Hey, everybody," Harry caught everybody's attention by standing on a chair and waving his hands, smiling nervously.  
  
"Hi, Harry!" they all chorused back, smiling and laughing.  
  
"Yesterday Professor Dumbledore had an announcement and all the House prefects are supposed to spread the message," Harry paused, unsure as how to say this.  
  
His pause lengthened as his hesitation grew.  
  
Suddenly a voice yelled out, "Just spit it out, Harry. The suspense is killing us!"  
  
There was laughter and some eye-rolling at Seamus' dramatics, but they were all as eager to know what Dumbledore had said.  
  
Harry decided to take Seamus' advice, "Alright, then...there's a new student coming today at dinner."  
  
Immediately there were whispers throughtout the room.  
  
"A new student?"  
  
"But can they-"  
  
"Transfer?"  
  
"In the middle of-"  
  
"I thought that-"  
  
Harry cleared his throat, attracting their attention once more. "That's not all. The new student is the son of Lucius Malfoy."  
  
This time there were no whispers. Just a shocked silence before cries of outrage filled the room.  
  
As Harry's attempts to calm the pandemonium proved to be futile, Hermione took his place on the chair.  
  
"Hey! Quiet!" Hermione shouted above the din.  
  
You could have heard a pin drop. Hermione was a girl to be feared.  
  
"Thank you," she cleared her throat primly before continuing.  
  
"Now there's no good reason for everybody to get in such an uproar."  
  
As some of the Gryffindors began to protest that there was a good reason to 'get in such an uproar', they were immediately silenced as Hermione turned a stern glare on them.  
  
She continued, "As I was saying, there's no good reason for you all to act like this. Yes, he's Lucius Malfoy's son. But there's nothing we can do about it. Besides, we all trust Dumbledore with our lives, right? Right?"  
  
She waited until they had all murmured out an agreement.  
  
"Right," she nodded decisively, "And therefore we should trust him about this. Now, it's time for dinner, so I suggest," she meant order, "that we all go down to the Great Hall, eat dinner, and wait until he arrives."  
  
They all agreed, not out of deference to Hermione's wishes as she thought, but to the thought of food and the anticipation of the new student's arrival.  
  
With Harry, Hermione, and Ron leading the procession, the entire house made their way to the Great Hall. All the other houses were already seated, waiting for the Gryffindors to arrive. The Hufflepuffs gave them a smile, the Ravenclaws nodded their heads toward them, and the Slytherins sneered at them.  
  
They had all just started eating when they heard the doors creak open. It was a quiet noise, but everyone in the Hall heard and they all turned their heads towards the doors.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
As Draco slipped through the doors, he found himself facing hundreds of strangers, their eyes all fixated on him. He didn't bat an eyelash, although his heart was secretly pounding away in his chest, but just moved aside so that Snape could follow him in, and walked to the end of Slytherin table and sat down.  
  
Snape strode to the professor's table and nodded almost imperceptibly to Dumbledore.  
  
The headmaster stood up and all the heads swiveled from the back of the Hall to the front.  
  
"Ah, yes," as usual, the Headmaster's eyes were twinkling brightly. "It appears our new student has arrived. As I expect your house prefects have already told you, his name is Draco Malfoy and he's just transferred here from...Durmstrang, is it?"  
  
Draco nodded, his face a serene lake, knowing perfectly well that the headmaster knew what his previous school had been.  
  
"Good. We all hope you get settled in nicely and have a wonderful rest of a year here at Hogwarts," he toasted, raising his goblet of pumpkin juice in the air.  
  
All the students and professors followed suit.  
  
After Dumbledore sat down, an uneasy silence followed.  
  
Draco, of course, knew this was because of his presence. He ignored the rest of the student body and finished his dinner at his pace. Despite his facade of nonchalance, their conspicuous staring was starting to annoy him, but he was determined not to let them dictate the speed at which he ate. In fact, in his effort to not appear to rush through his meal, he began to eat unusually slow.  
  
However, he did not have much food on his plate to begin with, so his plate was cleared off in a few minutes. He stood up and walked back out the doors, his robes swirling and his shoes clicking off the stone floor. All the students watched his departure silently.  
  
The moment the door shut behind him, the Hall erupted in noise.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"So that's the Malfoy spawn," Ron sneered.  
  
For once Hermione didn't bother to scold him, "I guess so."  
  
"He's just what I expected, maybe even worse. I mean, did you see him? All stuck up with his nose in the air. Interrupting our dinner and not even acknowledging it! Strutting in here like he owns the place. And sitting with those Slytherins like he belongs there. Then-"  
  
"Um, Ron? He is in the Slytherin house," Hermione interjected. "Did you think he'd be in any other house? Where else would a Malfoy go? Hufflepuff?"  
  
Harry and Ron both snorted in laughter at the thought.  
  
"Besides, we were all staring it him. It must have been uncomfortable."  
  
Ron's laughter disappeared, "Hermione! Why are you defending him?"  
  
"Ron, sweetie, you shouldn't prejudge people. All I'm saying is that we don't really know him, so until then, we shouldn't treat him like dirt."  
  
Ron muttered his breath, "Yeah, until then."  
  
Hermione ignored him, "I mean it, Ron. You and I both know what it's like to be judged based on what others say. The Slytherins call me Mudblood and they're always picking on you because your family's poor.  
  
Ron started to protest, but Harry interjected.  
  
"Come on, you guys, let's not fight over a Malfoy," Harry was used to playing peacemaker between his two friends. Since the two had officially begun dating halfway through their fifth year, the two continued to bicker just as much as they always had, if not more.  
  
"Yeah, sure, fine," Ron rolled his eyes, but then smiled and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek to let her know he wasn't really angry.  
  
Hermione simply smiled at him and took a sip from her pumpkin juice.  
  
With the argument dissolved, the three friends began to listen to what their housemates thought about this new student.  
  
The first through third years were already positively petrified. Malfoy hadn't even said anything really, but they knew he was trouble and they were dreafully anticipating the horrors he would enact upon them.  
  
The fourth through seventh years were not taking Hermione's advice and had gotten a head start insulting the Slytherin. Some, like Ron, were incredulous at Dumbledore's decision to allow the Malfoy to attend Hogwarts.  
  
Dean and Seamus, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind that the new student was a Malfoy. They had more important things on their minds.  
  
"So is Malfoy going to play quidditch?"  
  
Dean shrugged, "I don't know. Probably. You know, Viktor Krum was from Durmstrang. Graduated from there four years ago, I think."  
  
"Really? Viktor Krum? The Viktor Krum? As in the-Bulgarian-seeker-who-won- the-last-two-Quidditch-World-Cups Krum? As in the-youngest-seeker-ever-to- play-in-the-Quidditch-World-Cup Krum," both of Seamus' eyebrows were raised, attesting to his disbelief.  
  
"Yes, that Krum," Dean's calm voice in complete opposite from his boyfriend's.  
  
"Krum? He played during that game we saw during our fourth year, right?" Harry joined in.  
  
"Yes, him," Dean repeated.  
  
"Wait, Viktor Krum is from Durmstrang?" Ron jumped in, too.  
  
"Yes, he is," Dean repeated, again.  
  
"But what does that have to do with Malfoy?" Seamus had recovered from his surprise to get back to their original topic.  
  
Dean shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe Malfoy had Krum train him."  
  
"So you think Malfoy's a seeker, then?"  
  
"Probably. He's too small to play Beater or Keeper or even Chaser."  
  
Seamus grinned madly, "Great! Maybe then Gryffindor will finally have some competition. The only competition we ever had was C-"  
  
Dean pinched his boyfriend hard on his thigh. Seamus whipped his head to the side to look at Dean while resentfully rubbing his thigh.  
  
"Ow! What was that-oh. Oops," he looked properly chagrined and flicked his eyes toward Harry, who was sitting across from them, "Sorry, Harry."  
  
Harry managed a weak smile, "It's okay, Seamus."  
  
Seamus didn't have to finish the name, but they all knew who he meant. Cedric Diggory. The one seeker who had managed to catch the Snitch before Harry Potter.  
  
"Well, we probably don't have to worry about Malfoy, anyway. His father probably bought him on to the team or something," Dean tried to cover Seamus' faux pas.  
  
"Yeah, probably," Seamus agreed.  
  
"So, how did you know Krum was from Durmstrang, Dean?" Ron asked, trying to salvage their conversation.  
  
"Oh well, I was..." and Dean started into an elaborate story to explain this tidbit of knowledge.  
  
The boys, including Harry after a moment, forgot about this strange new student and entered into a passionate conversation about quidditch. Hermione, put out, disdainfully muttered something about boys and quidditch while she stabbed at her dinner with her fork.  
  
TBC  
  
P.S. Anyone want to beta my story? If so, please email me. 


	3. Chapter Three

Author's Note: Thank you to all my reviewers. And to the ones who I couldn't reach through email, thank you very very much! Especially to Sabrina-Rosalie. Your encouragement and praise never fail to make my grin like an idiot! I didn't really like how chapter 3 turned out and chapter 4 seemed kind of empty, so I bunched to two together as one chapter. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.  
  
  
  
CHAPTER 3  
  
He walked down the corridor, away from the whispering and glares. He still had to meet the headmaster, but he gathered that dinner would continue for another half an hour, at least. So he had about half an hour to find the dungeons and arrange all his things.  
  
With that thought, he headed towards the nearest staircase leading down. He was just about to head down a stairway that had finally stopped moving, when a ghost suddenly swirled in front of him.  
  
"Hmmm, a new student, eh?" the ghost sneered.  
  
"Hmmm, a ghost, eh?" he mocked, repressing the urge to roll his eyes. Too childish.  
  
"A mere ghost?" he was indignant, "I think not. I am a poltergeist. Peeves the Poltergeist."  
  
Draco looked the poltergeist over. He was a little man with a strange hat and an ugly orange bow tie. It was pathetically obvious the poltergeist was trying to intimidate him. Too bad he didn't know that this particular new student had seen and faced things far worse.  
  
"Get out of my way, Peebes," he tried to pass Peeves and descend down the stairs.  
  
"Hey, the name is Peeves. And you should be more respectful," the ghost huffed.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why?" the poltergeist repeated incredulously. "Why? I'll tell you why, you insolent little...I'd be careful if I were you. It's very easy to get lost here if you're new."  
  
His advice was laced with maliciousness, but Draco ignored Peeves' tone.  
  
"Really? I must thank you for telling me, then. You'll be able to help me navigate my way around, won't you?" Draco asked innocently.  
  
"Help you? Now why would I want to do that?"  
  
"Because if you don't, I'll hex you," Draco's voice was light as if he was talking about the weather.  
  
Peeves snorted before laughing uproariously, "Hex me! You foolish boy, you can't hex me!"  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure, Peeves," he spat out the poltergeist's name like it was a curse, his nonchalant mood switching tracks as sudden as a thunderstorm. "My father has taught me all sorts of interesting hexes for all sorts of interesting people. You might have heard of him. The name Malfoy sound familiar?"  
  
If it was possible, Peeves would have paled. "Malfoy? You're Lucius Malfoy's son?"  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
Just hearing that awful name brought back horrible memories, but Peeves tried to bluff his way out of helping Draco.  
  
"So what if your father's Lucius Malfoy? You're probably not skilled enough to perform any of them."  
  
Draco raised his wand, "Maybe you're right, but practice makes perfect, doesn't it?"  
  
Immediately Peeves backed down, "Alright! Fine, you little brat! I'll help you."  
  
"Good," Draco smirked. "But watch the name calling. Now I need to get to the Slytherin dungeons. Take me there."  
  
Peeves sighed. Oh the humiliation. But he floated obediently towards the dungeons, Draco following silently. Peeves had been right. There were various corridors and staircases that appeared to go towards the dungeons, but went in the opposite direction. It didn't help that the stairways kept shifting up and down, back and forth. With the poltergeist's help, Draco reached his house in a few minutes.  
  
"Thank you. You may go now."  
  
Peeves glared at the pale boy for dismissing him like that, but he wandered off anyway. The boy was just like his father, and it wasn't worth it to get on his bad side.  
  
Draco ignored the glare and turned to stare at the stone wall that led to his room. How was he going to get in? Professor Snape had not told him the password. But Draco remembered his mother telling him that Severus Snape was a Potions Master, so he began to randomly guess ingredients to various potions.  
  
Finally, the secret door slid open at 'hensbane' (his twelfth attempt) and Draco strolled in. The moment he stepped in, the fireplace lit up. Immediately, the cold that seemed to radiate from the stone walls disappeared. There were some hanging lights and chairs around the fire. The seventh-year boy's room was at the other end of the common room, which was rather long.  
  
He came to another hidden door. This time, however, Draco could see that it would open if triggered. He carefully moved his fingers around the door. His fingers felt a bump and the door clicked open. He pushed at the stone and entered into his living quarters for the next six months. The door shut with an ominous thud that echoed throughout the room.  
  
The room was a rectangle. There were five beds, three on the right and two on the left. The ground was, like the rest of the Slytherin dungeons, stone, but was also, thankfully, covered with a plush green and silver rug. Each of the beds had a gold plate with the boy's name engraved upon it attached to the footboard.  
  
Draco found his bed wedged into the back corner. Like the others, it was a four-poster bed with a green and silver canopy. At the end of his bed, Draco found a trunk with his name engraved upon the top. He opened it.  
  
All his belongings were inside. He performed an enlargening spell and began to organize his things. His shoes and clothes all went back in the trunk, while his broom went under his bed. His textbooks, quills, and parchments were placed in his schoolbag, which was then placed on top of the trunk. Various other trinkets went into the nightstand by his bed.  
  
He placed his alarm clock on top of the nightstand. It had been a Christmas gift from his mother. It was in the shape of a dragon, a Hungarian Horntail, all scaly black with bright yellow eyes and bronze spikes on its tail.  
  
He checked the time. He had about fifteen minutes before he had to leave. He laid down on his bed and began fiddling with the clock.  
  
He was setting the alarm when he heard the door click open. He heard two pairs of feet clumsily shuffle over to his bed, but he didn't bother sitting up. He finished setting the alarm and set it back on the nightstand before finally sitting up to face the two strangers.  
  
Well, not strangers after all. Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Great.  
  
Their fathers were frequent guests at the Malfoy Manor, along with several other Death Eaters. Draco remembered his father being surprised when Goyle and Crabbe had gone to Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang, but he shrugged it off, thinking it all part of the plan to get closer to Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter.  
  
But Draco knew what they were doing here, right now. He cut them off before they could open their mouths to greet him.  
  
"Look, Crabbe, Goyle. I know my mother has probably contacted your families to keep an eye on me, but I don't need your help."  
  
The two grunted noncommittedly.  
  
"I mean it. Do you understand?"  
  
This time one of them, Goyle, spoke up, "Well, yeah, but your mother contacted us, not our parents. And she wants us to report to her directly every Saturday."  
  
"Oh, bloody hell."  
  
His mother always did tend to worry too much about him. It had only increased tenfold after Lucius disappeared and she found out about...well, things that had happened when she wasn't around.  
  
"Fine. You two may follow me around or whatever, but do not interfere with my business. And when I want my privacy, you better make yourselves scarce. Got it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good, well I have to go meet the headmaster now or I'll be late," he lied. He didn't have to leave for another ten minutes, but he didn't want to be around them any more than he had to.  
  
He stood up and started to walk out the room. The two Slytherins started to follow. He stopped them with a wave of his hand.  
  
"First lesson. That means go away. I have to meet Dumbledore. Alone," he twirled on his heel and sauntered out of the room.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Draco stood in front of the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office, staring penetratingly at the stone statue as if that would solve his dilemma.  
  
He had summoned Peeves to lead him to Dumbledore and the poltergeist had led him here. He knew there must be some sort of password, but he didn't have a clue as to what it would be. Unlike the Slytherins or Snape, Draco hadn't the faintest idea what the headmaster would choose for a password.  
  
So he stood outside, staring at this gargoyle.  
  
He was still standing there when Professor Snape came upon him.  
  
"Malfoy!"  
  
"Hello, professor," he greeted politely.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"You said earlier that the headmaster wished to speak with me, but I'm afraid I can't get it in."  
  
"Oh, yes, of course," Snape mumbled distractedly. "Tootsie Pop."  
  
The gargoyle swung aside and the wall behind it opened.  
  
Snape answered Draco's unasked question, "It's a Muggle candy."  
  
"Oh, yes. I thought they sounded familiar. My mother bought me one to try over the holidays."  
  
Snape smiled stiffly, "Yes, they're quite good. Now, you just go up these stairs and you'll find the headmaster."  
  
Draco nodded politely and waited until the Potions Master had disappeared around a corner towards the dungeons, before he began stepped onto the stairs. Immediately, the staircase began to rise, twirling like a circular escalator. Finally it stopped and Draco was at the door to Dumbledore's quarters. He swung the griffin-shaped knocker and heard a the faint scrape of a chair.  
  
"Come in."  
  
He pushed open the door and strolled in, feeling as if his heart was about to jump out of his ribcage.  
  
The headmaster stood behind an enormous desk. He was an old man. Long white beard and friendly, wise eyes. Typical old wizard. But Draco knew better than that. This was Albus Dumbledore. And he was the one wizard that Voldemort was scared of.  
  
"Ah, yes, Mr. Malfoy," the headmaster smiled cordially, sweeping his arms in an indication for Draco to sit down.  
  
Draco moved to one of the armchairs in front of Dumbledore's desk and sank into its soft cushions. His feet barely brushed the floor and he refrained from swinging them back and forth. He folded his hands in his lap and look up expectedly at the headmaster, waiting for him to speak.  
  
The wizard said nothing, just sat down at in his chair with a graceful sweeping of his black robes.  
  
Draco tried not to squirm under the Dumbledore's gaze. He moved his hands from his lap to lay atop the armrests. He still had the annoying urge to swing his feet back and forth. Or get up and look at the strange artifacts in the room. Just do anything to distract himself from the headmaster's unnerving gaze. Instead he clenched his hands around the wooden armrests. While he yearned to just speak up or clear his throat, he refused to be the one to break first.  
  
Thye sat there, staring at each other. Draco sitting rigidly in his seat, his hands clutching at the armrests while Dumbledore leaned back, serenely gazing right back at the boy in front of him. His eyes made him uncomfortable, as if the headmaster was trying to get into his head.  
  
Finally, the headmaster spoke up, "So, Mr. Malfoy. I assume Professor Snape has informed you of your living arrangements here?"  
  
"Yes, he has." Draco practically sighed in relief before he caught himself.  
  
The headmaster hmmm'ed, "Good. I trust that you have already gone to see arrange your things."  
  
At Draco's nod he continued, "So you have managed to find your around the school, then."  
  
Again, Draco nodded his assent, not willing to say how exactly he had managed.  
  
But the headmaster's eyes twinkled as if he already knew Draco had forced Peeves into being his unofficial tour guide to Hogwarts. Draco snorted to himself, what was he think? The headmaster probably did know.  
  
"Resourceful, Mr. Malfoy. I think you'll fit right in with the Slytherins."  
  
Draco blinked. Was that approval in the headmaster's voice? Did he want Draco to manipulate that pathetic poltergeist to his own whims? Draco blinked again.  
  
"Well, it's quite handy to know your way around here. I'm afraid I still have to rescue lost first-years," Dumbledore smiled amusedly.  
  
"Yes, quite handy," Draco echoed.  
  
"Now, let's get down to business, shall we? Classes. You'll have to take certain classes with the other Slytherins, but you can have as many extra classes as you'd like. As long as you can manage them all into your schedule," again the wizard's eyes twinkled.  
  
"Sir? Which classes do I take with the Slytherins?" Draco asked politely.  
  
The headmaster appeared pensive for a moment, "Well, the required classes, the ones taken with your housemates, are Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."  
  
Now it was Draco's turn to look pensive. "What are other possible classes I could take?"  
  
"There's several, Mr. Malfoy. Here," Dumbledore handed him a list of all the classes offered at Hogwarts and their times.  
  
Draco blinked in surprise the the various classes listed.  
  
Unobserved, the headmaster's eyes twinkled yet again. He had deduced that the pale boy seated in front of him expressed his surprise through rather forceful blinking.  
  
"Yes, we've added many more classes recently when many of our alumni returned and volunteered to teach," Dumbledore explained before handing the boy another list.  
  
Draco tore his eyes from the page when he realized the headmaster was handing him another piece of parchment. This one listed his class schedule with the other Slytherins.  
  
"Now, why don't you look over these and come back in the morning once you've decided your classes. It's nearing curfew and you don't want to be caught outside by Mr. Filch, the groundskeeper," the headmaster's voice was a mix of caution and humor.  
  
"Yes, sir. Thank you," Draco tucked the papers into his robes.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
He made his way to the dungeons without Peeves' help. No corridors or staircases had radically moved and Draco remembered the way back.  
  
He reached the stone wall and muttered 'hensbane'. The Slytherin Common Room was only occupied by the Seventh years; it seemed they had cleared all the other students out to their rooms.  
  
Pansy Parkinson sat closest to the fire next to Millicent Bulstrode. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting against one of the walls, facing the door so they would know when Draco returned. And Blaise Zabini sat the farthest away from the fire with his back to the door.  
  
But he heard the door open and close, as did the other four students, and he craned his neck around the chair to see Draco's entrace.  
  
Immediately Pansy hopped out the chair to greet him.  
  
"Draco Malfoy! It's been ages! How's your family? Was the trip here awful? It's wonderful to have another seventh year around. I was so disappointed when I heard you were going all the way to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts. But now you're here! We'll have a ball."  
  
Draco pried himself away from her. Ah, yes, Pansy Parkinson. He hadn't seen her since the summer before sixth year, but she still looked the same. Pity. She and her family had visited Malfoy Manor every summer until the Ministry of Magic had finally declared the resurrection of Voldemort.  
  
Pansy pouted at being brushed aside, but Draco ignored her and sat down in the chair facing Blaise's.  
  
The other Slytherin's only words to Draco were, "You're playing seeker, right? Good. Millicent's much better at Chaser, anyway."  
  
Draco flickered a glance to where Millicent and Pansy were not-so- discreetly watching them. He saw Millicent's mouth drop open in outrage and she stood up to confront Blaise.  
  
But Blaise had seen Millicent move, "Oh, sit down, Millicent. You know I'm right. You just don't have the build of a seeker."  
  
Although she did sit back down, the girl was still seething. "Don't have the build? Oh, please, Blaise. You think you're the master of Quidditch just because your captain of the team. Potter doesn't have the build of seeker, either. He's all tall and...big."  
  
"But he's not a clumsy cow like you are, Millicent."  
  
Before the girl could jump up and punch his lights out, Pansy intervened.  
  
"Come on, Millicent. We don't need to listen to this. Let's go to our room," and she practically dragged the other girl away.  
  
Blaise snortered at their retreat and promptly went to the boy's dorm afterwards with a polite goodnight to the three left in the common room.  
  
Draco was about to follow the boy, but he could see Crabbe and Goyle were nervous around him. He smirked and purposefully reclined comfortably in his chair, ignoring them. They hovered by the wall, wondering whether he wanted them to leave or stay. Finally Draco took pity on them and waved them away. The two boys could not help but sigh in relief as they scurried off to the boy's room.  
  
The moment they disappeared behind the door, Draco's face turned solemn. He pulled out the pieces of parchment from his robes and looked over them.  
  
He had Charms and Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, Transfiguration and Mediwizardry with the Ravenclaws, and Care of Magical Creatrues, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors.  
  
Draco examined the list of extra classes over and over. There were no music or art classes like there had been at Durmstrang. Draco was secretly disappointed, but he could still practice within the privacy of his curtained off, magicked off bed. He glanced over the languages before deciding not to take them.  
  
Draco poured over the possibilities before finally deciding on three, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes both looked difficult but manageable and interesting. Muggle Studies looked to be very informative. Draco idly wondered how the other students would react to his taking the class, but then shrugged the thought off.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
He did not sleep at all that night.  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: If you want a copy of Draco's schedule, email me and I'll send it to you. 


	4. Chapter Four

Author's Note: So, so, so sorry about the very long delay. When I said I was going to take a little, teeny-weeny break, I did not expect that. All my teachers decided to squeeze in tests and bucketload of work before winter break. And then I couldn't work on it during the first two weeks of break because my family and I went to visit my mom's side of the family, consisting of four aunts, four uncles, six boy cousins, four girl cousins, my two sisters, my mom, my step-dad, and my grandfather. And my two youngest cousins (five and eight, girl and boy, respectively), are totally insane and my sisters and I practically took care of them the whole entire visit there. Not that I don't love them. Just not very conducive to writing.  
  
But, hey, I posted two chapters!!  
  
A couple people have asked me this so I'm going to set the record straight: Yes, this is going to be slash. Yes it's a Draco/Harry pairing. But no, I have no idea when. (sorry!)  
  
To LizaSJ@aol.com and withset: I'm sure you'll see some of your ideas in this chapter, or, if not, in future ones!  
  
To Edana: Thank you for your reviews! My one and only reviewer for Snapshots! By the way, everyone go out there and read her work! Her HP fics are absolutely beautiful and so is her original fiction!! Read it!!  
  
To Rerisu: I wanted so much for you beta these chapters, but my email went wonky and I got mad. Next one?  
  
Anyway, you probably don't care, so...read on! ::crosses fingers and hopes readers didn't up on me:: Thanks to all my reviewers, esepcially the ones who gave me so many wonderful ideas.  
  
Okay, wait, I lied. For anyone who didn't reread chapter 3 because I changed it...a lot, they should; I added Draco and Dumbledore's meeting to chapter 3 instead of making it a whole new chapter as I originally intended.  
  
  
  
CHAPTER 4  
  
Draco stifled a yawn as he tried to pay attention to Professor McGonagoll's lecture. He sat in the back of the classroom at a desk by himself. The Ravenclaws were all studiously taking notes, some of them practically drooling at all the new information.  
  
Draco rubbed his eyes tiredly and dipped his quill in his ink bottle.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
[the previous night]  
  
12:13  
  
Draco stifled a groan as he turned his head to the right, checking the time on his clock. The last time he had looked, it had read 12:04. And before that, 11:49. And before that, 11:32. And after tossing and turning for over an hour, Draco finally admitted to himself that he was not going to be getting any sleep that night.  
  
He sat up in his bed, propping one of his pillows up on the headboard to lean on. Across from him, he could hear the snores of one Vincent Crabbe. To Crabbe's right was the sporadic mumblings of Gregory Goyle. And to Draco's right was the silent bed of Blaise Zabini.  
  
Draco opened his bed curtains and immediately shivered at the cold air of the dungeons. His thermals helped a little, but not much; Draco pulled the blankets closer to his body. All the other boys had left their curtains open and Draco shook his head in amazement. But then again, the blonde boy did get cold rather easily.  
  
Draco sighed silently and stuck one foot out, placing it on the cold, stone floors. He couldn't help the shiver that ran up his body, but he determinedly stuck his other foot out.  
  
He immediately pulled the trunk of clothes from under his bed. He lifted the lid and found, laid out on the top, the very thing for which he was looking. His fur cape. His mother must have known that he would get cold in the Slytherin dungeons and made sure that it was placed at the top. Draco smiled.  
  
He threw the cape over himself and immediately began to feel warmer. After fishing around in the trunk for a few moments, Draco finally found what he was looking for, pulling out a pair of socks and slipping them on over his half-frozen feet.  
  
He grabbed his wand off his nightstand, tucking into the inner pocket of his cape, before exiting the room. The dungeons were beginning to feel a little stuffy and he wanted some fresh air. Draco could tell the moment he reached ground level. The air seemed fresher, less stale, and it was warmer.  
  
He wanted to see the gardens his mother had told him about, but he didn't know where they were. He didn't want to summon Peeves for Draco didn't have the energy to threaten and browbeat the poltergeist. Instead, he walked down the corridors, looking at the portraits and statues, but carefully etching each place into his mind so as not to get lost.  
  
Draco stumbled upon the the quidditch trophy case by pure accident. Seeing the pictures of people zooming in the air suddenly made the blonde wish that he had brought his broom for a spot of flying. Flying always did help him relax. Well, almost always.  
  
He studied the pictures of the House Cup winners, looking for the faces of his mother and father. However, Draco discovered that in his parents' five years of playing quidditch, they had never won the Cup. The Gryffindors did.  
  
Draco was peering intently at a picture of James Potter when he heard a noise behind him. He whirled around, whipping out his wand.  
  
He found himself pointing it at a little house elf. A smiling house elf, to be specific.  
  
"Dobby!" Draco smiled back, his eyebrows both shooting up in an expression of surprised happiness.  
  
"Little Master Malfoy," Dobby bowed.  
  
Draco tucked his wand back into his cape and knelt down so that he was eye level with the house elf.  
  
"Just Draco, Dobby. How many times must I remind you?" Draco mock-scolded, his eyes merry.  
  
"Yes, Master Draco. Dobby remembers," Dobby answered.  
  
Draco gave Dobby an affectionate pat. Draco was eight the first time he had told Dobby to call him by his first name. Dobby was horrified and had begun bashing his head upon the bookshelf in Draco's room. Draco hadn't brought it up again until the summer after his first year at Durmstrang. When Dobby had tried to hurt himself, Draco threatened to give Dobby a chocolate frog. Since then, Draco tried again and again to get the house elf to call him Draco. So far, Dobby would only call him Master Draco; and only after prompting from the blonde. Still, Draco perservered, determined to have Dobby call him by his first name eventually.  
  
"How have you been, Dobby? I'd heard you were at Hogwarts."  
  
"Oh, Master Draco. Dobby loves Hogwarts. Headmaster treats Dobby very good. Pays him. And gives him days off. Dobby is very happy," Dobby nodded emphatically.  
  
Draco's eyes softened at Dobby's words, "I'm glad, Dobby."  
  
"Dobby is glad, too. Does Master Draco know that the great Harry Potter is here?"  
  
"Yes, Dobby. I know that."  
  
"Dobby gives him socks every Christmas. Just like to Master Draco."  
  
Draco surprised the house elf by giving enveloping his small body in a hug, "Thank you for the socks, Dobby. I love them. I'm wearing them right now. See?"  
  
He lifted his trouser leg to show the knitted socks.  
  
"Dobby is happy Master Draco likes the socks. Dobby had heard words in the kitchen of Master Draco's coming to Hogwarts. Dobby is very excited to hear that."  
  
"Yes, I'm glad to be here, too, Dobby," Draco's smile was tinged with a hint of sadness.  
  
"Is Master Draco sad? Dobby will make Master Draco hot chocolate. Master Draco still loves chocolate?"  
  
Draco laughed quietly, giving Dobby another pat on the head, "Yes, some hot chocolate does sound good."  
  
And the two walked off towards the kitchen. A few minutes later, the swish of cloth was heard and moonlight glinted off a pair of glasses.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
After some hot chocolate, Draco had returned to his room. He had sat in bed, writing a letter to his mother, until his alarm went off.  
  
Crabbe woke with a start, practically chocking on a snore. Goyle mumbled loudly, his arm swiping at some invisible thing in the air. Zabini slept on.  
  
Draco silenced his alarm clock and folded the letter neatly, stuffing it in an envelope, before getting out of bed to take a shower.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Draco was shaken out of his reverie when he heard the collective groaning of the class. Actually, the collective groaning of the Slytherins.  
  
"No complaining, class. Just because it's the first day back from break doesn't mean that you get to slack off. Now I want you to read chapter 21 and write an 11-inch analysis. Class dismissed."  
  
Draco was still putting away his materials when two large shadows fell over him.  
  
He had managed to avoid to two brutes that morning. He was finishing his shower as they started theirs and he had dressed before they had finished. He had shown up early for breakfast and opted for a muffin, choosing to eat on the way to Charms rather than in the Great Hall.  
  
Now it seemed he could no longer hide from them.  
  
"Crabbe. Goyle."  
  
"Malfoy."  
  
"Draco," he corrected, his voice cold  
  
"Sorry. Draco."  
  
Draco inwardly cringed. They even spoke with the same voice.  
  
"You two go on to the Great Hall. I'm going to take a nap."  
  
"You want us to bring you something to eat?"  
  
Draco blinked in surprise. Had Goyle just come up with an idea? Maybe the lack of sleep was getting to him.  
  
"No. Just eat lunch. I'm going to the dungeons. I'll meet you two at the Great Hall fifteen minutes before Care for Magical Creatures starts. If I'm not there, go to the dungeons and wake me up. Got it?"  
  
"Sure, Draco," and the two Slytherins left.  
  
Draco finished putting his things away, noticing he was the only student left in the classroom. He slung his bag over a shoulder and left as quietly as possible.  
  
"See you on Wednesday, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
Professor McGonagoll's voice stoppped him at the door.  
  
"Yes, see you on Wednesday, Professor McGonagoll," and Draco swept out of the room.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Draco woke up, feeling much more refreshed. Ah, the wonders of a quick nap.  
  
He had about ten more minutes until Crabbe and Goyle were to fetch him, so he decided to go up to the Great Hall. He was feeling a little hungry, anyway.  
  
The two Slytherins were wolfing down their food at an alarming rate when Draco came upon them. He sat down across from them, facing the other three tables, as they grunted some semblance of a greeting. He grabbed a bagel from a basket, cut it neatly in half, and smeared some cream cheese on it, before settling down in his seat to survey the other students.  
  
The Ravenclaws were at the table closest to the Slytherins. A group was gathered at one end, all huddled over a pile of books, parchments, and quills, arguing among the themselves. At the other end were the shy ones, each with his or her head buried in a large tome. The rest of the Ravenclaws sat at the center of the table and were talking quietly, laughing.  
  
Boring.  
  
Draco shifted his eyes to the next table. The Hufflepuffs. At the end of the table, closest to the door, a tall girl, Hannah something-or-other, if Draco remembered correctly, was showing a group of first, second, and third years how to make origami cranes and flowers out of prettily patterned paper. At the middle of the table, the head boy Justin Finch-Fletchly was surrounded by a gathering of girls. He looked rather uncomfortable attention, but Draco could see his appeal. The Hufflepuff was tall, a head of gold hair with blond streaks, a pair of pale blue eyes, and a light sprinkling of freckles. At the other end, closest to the professor's table, the other Hufflepuffs were gathered, making jokes, gossiping, and conjecturing about the next quidditch match between the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.  
  
Ah, the Gryffindors. Just the thought of them made Draco smirk. He had gone through his father's old things when the man had run off with Voldemort. His father had been a Slytherin and had, therefore, hated the Gryffindors. Draco had found numerous artifacts of pranks pulled on the Gryffindors, especially against one James Potter.  
  
And, yes, there was Potter. Draco found him right away. He was at the center of the table, flanked by an awkward but tall red-head (must be a Weasley, Draco thought to himself) and a bushy, brown haired girl.  
  
Draco stared hard at the bespectacled, until the Boy Who Lived lifted his eyes to him. Their eyes caught and Draco lifted on delicate, blond eyebrow in a salute. Potter blinked and bowed his head minutely in his direction, no evidence of a smile or a frown on his face.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Draco sauntered down the corridors in the direction of Hagrid's hut, his two shadows trailing him. He stepped onto the freshly fallen snow when he heard voices to his right.  
  
Three students decked in black robes with red and gold scarves stopped abruptly when they saw him. Goodie, Gryffindors.  
  
And then Draco noticed the tousled black hair, glasses, and faded scar. He smirked. Even better, Potter and his friends.  
  
"Malfoy."  
  
"Potter."  
  
  
  
TBC 


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Draco and Harry's first meeting! Finally! Any and all mistakes and solely mine. Feel free to correct me!  
  
  
  
CHAPTER 5  
  
It was times like this where Harry could forget he was the Boy Who Lived and that there was an insane, evil wizard trying to kill him and take over the world. He smiled to himself as Ron and Hermione bickered beside him.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded, "I told Hagrid we'd meet him for class early today to help him set up, but now we might even be late for class!"  
  
"Hermione, relax. We're not going to be late for class. So we're not going to be there early. It isn't going to kill us. Besides, I'm sure Hagrid didn't really need our help. He just wanted to talk and we can meet with him after class."  
  
Hermione did not relax, "But I promised him! He'll be disappointed in us. And it's your fault, anyway, Ron."  
  
"My fault?!"  
  
"Yes! I kept trying to get you to leave, but you said we'd have plenty of time. And then went back to eating. Honestly, Ron. You ate like you were starving."  
  
"Well I didn't have breakfast and I was hungry," Ron tried to defend himself, "And we would have had time if your bag hadn't ripped at the seams because you stuffed so many books in it."  
  
"So now this is my fault, Ron Weasley?"  
  
Ron realized his mistake and looked desperately at Harry for help. Harry gave him a look that said, "You're on your own, mate. Sorry."  
  
Hermione continued her tirade, "I need those books! They are important to our classes and to my education. You could have offered to help carry them at least. Like a good boyfriend does."  
  
"Oh, so now I'm a bad boyfriend! Hermione, this is getting out of hand. Hagrid won't mind. Seriously. And we can apologize after class. He'll understand," Ron tried to placate his girlfriend now.  
  
Harry decided to chip in, "Really, 'Mione. It's not that big of a deal."  
  
Hermione sighed and gave in with a roll of her eyes, "Oh, fine. I just really wanted to help Hagrid out today. I feel bad that we didn't visit him often during the holidays."  
  
Sensing that everything was okay, Ron smiled and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek, "You're just sweet, Hermione. Hagrid doesn't mind. Besides, we visited him on Christmas Day, remember. Spent the whole morning with him."  
  
Hermione's reply was lost on Harry as he spotted a trio of Slytherins. A slight boy with two hulking brutes behind him. Harry could already recognize them. Draco Malfoy and his bodyguards, Goyle and Crabbe.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione noticed Harry had fallen behind.  
  
But Ron had already seen what Harry had. The three Gryffindors were now face to face with the three Slytherins.  
  
"Malfoy," he spat the name out like a vomit Bernie Bott bean.  
  
Malfoy ignored Ron, looking only at Harry.  
  
"Potter."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
[the previous night]  
  
No matter what Harry tried, he just couldn't get to sleep.  
  
He tried counting sheep. He tried focusing on his breathing. He tried to free his mind of any problems. No such luck.  
  
At last he couldn't take it any longer; the room seemed to get stuffier and hotter with each passing moment.  
  
He got out of bed, put on his glasses, and reached under his bed for his broomstick. A bit of flying just might help him clear his mind and help him sleep easier. It wouldn't do for Gryffindor's Head Boy to get caught outside the dormitory after curfew, so he brought out his father's trusty invisibility cloak, wrapping it firmly around himself.  
  
Harry had reached his growth spurt the summer between his fifth and sixth year and he found he could no longer squeeze himself, Ron, and Hermione under it. With a bit of creative wiggling, he could, at best, manage to fit himself and Hermione under it. Like Harry, Ron had grown a lot over the years as well; he was a little taller than Harry.  
  
Harry made sure the cloak covered his body and broom completely before silently easing his door open.  
  
The seventh year's boy dormitories were on his way out and Harry couldn't refrain from checking in on them. He cracked the door open and stuck his head inside.  
  
He could hear Neville's sleep mumblings and Ron's occasional shift in bed. Dean's bed was empty but Seamus' was curtained off and charmed. Harry shook his head at the two before shutting it quietly and heading towards the common room.  
  
Even in the dark, Harry managed to maneuver his way through the furniture to the portrait opening. He had traversed this path many times.  
  
As he moved the portrait, the Fat Lady came awake.  
  
"Huh? Wha?"  
  
Harry froze in place and the Fat Lady fell right back asleep. Harry sighed in relief and moved her back in place.  
  
Harry made his way down the dark corridors to the quidditch pitch. He reached the area without running into Filch and was about to take the cloak off when he heard a noise.  
  
A blonde boy was walking in his direction. Harry almost panicked, thinking he had been spotted, when he realized he was still under the safety of his cloak.  
  
However, he almost gave himself away as the boy stopped, standing in a moonbeam, peering into the quidditch trophy case. It was Draco Malfoy.  
  
The blonde hair seemed practically ivory in the moonlight and his eyes...what color were they? They appeared gray, but Harry had never seen such eyes. They weren't blue-gray like most gray eyes he'd seen; they were gray with a tinge of blue. Harry was still puzzling over Malfoy's strange eyes when the Slytherin suddenly twirled.  
  
He was just as surprised as Malfoy when he discovered Dobby standing behind him. However, Harry noticed Malfoy's surprise quickly switched to delight.  
  
Harry was now more puzzled than ever. First of all, what was Malfoy doing outside of the dormitories? And how did he know Dobby and why was he so friendly to the house elf?  
  
At last Harry found the answer to his second one. Well, partially. Dobby had worked for the Malfoys before he had come to Hogwarts. He remembered the little house elf telling him that when they had first met. And although Harry didn't know why the house elf had suddenly appeared, he hadn't really questioned it at the time. He did now, though.  
  
Harry felt slightly guilty listening to their conversation. But the Malfoy he was seeing before him was radically different from his preconceived idea. First of all, he was talking to a house elf. And he wasn't being condescending or cruel. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying his conversation with Dobby.  
  
And then he had showed Dobby his socks. Harry's eyes widened. Dobby had given Malfoy socks? Harry had supposed that Dobby hadn't liked his previous masters; they were Malfoys. But Malfoy had Dobby-knitted socks. And he was wearing them. Harry felt a pang of guilt over never wearing the socks.  
  
Then he heard Dobby after "Master Draco" a cup of hot chocolate. But not before he noticed Malfoy's sad smile. As the two walked off, Harry became aware that he needed that bout of flying more than after. He needed some time to digest what he had just witnessed.  
  
Making sure the two were out of sight and out of hearing, Harry took the cloak off and mounted his broom. But as he flew, he could think of nothing but that sad, wistful smile that had adorned Malfoy's face before he had gone down to the kitchens with Dobby.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Harry compared that face with the one has was looking at now. Malfoy's face didn't even look like it could crack into a smile, as if it was made out of ice and such an expression with make it shatter into bits. Malfoy's blonde hair was gelled back to his head, not slightly tousled as it had been last night. And his gray eyes were flat like mirrors. And that mouth, which had curved gently into a smile before, now looked like it could do no such thing. It was a mouth made for sneering.  
  
Which was what he was doing right at this moment.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Ron's voice did nothing to conceal his contempt.  
  
Malfoy appeared to ponder the question seriously, "What do I want? Oh, what does anybody want these days? I suppose I'd settle for a chocolate frog right now. Or maybe a cup of butterbeer. Or perhaps a-"  
  
"Malfoy," Ron stretched his name out in a warning. "What do you want with us?"  
  
"With you two?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow as he ran his eyes over Ron and Hermione. "Nothing. I was talking to Potter."  
  
Harry finally spoke up, "So what do you want with me?"  
  
"Just wanted to introduce myself. I just had to meet the Boy Who Lived," although Malfoy's face looked sincere enough, his voice will anything but.  
  
"Well, now we've met. Now, excuse us, Malfoy, but we've got a class to get to," Harry tried to walk past the blonde Slytherin.  
  
"My name is Draco."  
  
"What?" Harry stopped in his tracks.  
  
"I said, my name is Draco," Malfoy repeated slowly, as if talking to four year old.  
  
"I heard you," Harry snapped.  
  
"Then why'd you ask?" Malfoy asked, as if seriosuly curious to the answer.  
  
Harry silently repeated to himself that violence was never the answer and said aloud, "I know what your name is."  
  
"I know you do; I just told you."  
  
"Malfoy, what is your point? I have better things to do than talking in circles with you."  
  
"The name is Draco."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh, bloody hell, Potter. Are we going to go through this all again? I said my name is Draco. And I expect you to call me that."  
  
"Why would I?"  
  
"Because I told you to," as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"So I'm just supposed to do as you say?"  
  
"Well you could, if you wanted, I suppose," Harry opened his mouth for an angry retort, but Draco cut him off, "Look, Potter, just call me Draco, okay? It's not that hard."  
  
"Fine, Draco," he spat the name out more venemously than Ron spat out 'Malfoy.'  
  
Draco nodded graciously, "Nice meeting you, Potter."  
  
And with that the Slytherin and his two henchman were off towards Hagrid's shack, leaving the three Gryffindors to watch them depart.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Ron finally managed to find his wits.  
  
"Ron, language," Hermione automatically reprimanded.  
  
"I have no idea," Harry was still steaming mad. "Honestly, all that fuss over his stupid name."  
  
"Maybe he doesn't like his name," Ron suggested. "I mean, I would hate to have to last name Malfoy."  
  
That got Harry to smile.  
  
"Although," Ron continued. "Draco's not that better. I mean, who names their kid 'Draco'? Honestly, he's just begging to have a messed up kid."  
  
Harry and Hermione laughed and Ron smiled.  
  
"Come on, let's go to class."  
  
  
  
TBC 


End file.
